


Maraas

by adepressedmeme



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dinner, F/M, Penis Size, Rouge Hawke, Size Difference, Size Kink, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:40:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27327487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adepressedmeme/pseuds/adepressedmeme
Summary: A short one-shot I had on the back burner. May write more of this pairing.
Relationships: Arishok/Female Hawke, Arishok/Hawke
Comments: 1
Kudos: 26





	Maraas

**Author's Note:**

> Basalit-an: one worthy of respect  
> Maraas: alone/nothing  
> Vitaar: poison body paint  
> Defransdim: male genitals  
> Mashev: command to eat  
> Na'thek: as you wish  
> Astaarit: it rises  
> Ataash: glory

Hawke made her way to the compound. She was the only one allowed to come and go as she pleased. The Arishok declared her Basalit-an, worthy of his respect. He had his spies watching her since the first steps she took in the compound with that damned stupid dwarf, Javaris. They gave him regular reports of her climbing from the slums of Lowtown, to making a fortune from surviving all odds in the Deep Roads, to losing her mother to a crazy mage. 

She made regular visits to the compound but didn’t always see the Arishok. Hawke had sparred with some of his men, learning how to use her smaller size to her advantage against such large opponents. The Arishok allowed it as it helped keep his men sharp while they were stuck in Kirkwall. Some days he would also let Hawke sit in on his diplomatic visits. Sometimes it was a dignitary on business, other times nobles who thought themselves above the Qunari and showed their asses. In those times she would sit on the steps just slightly below him and off to his right side. It caused quite a bit of stir when she first did it after the Arishok invited her attendance, hoping to convert her to the Qun by showing her just how stupid and obnoxious the ‘good’ people of the city were. 

This time Hawke was bringing a gift with her, hoping to share a meal with the Arishok. He would break bread with her on occasion when she lingered long enough and she had been lingering a lot recently. After the passing of her mother, Hawke felt more alone in the world. Her father was her first loss. Then she lost her home in Lothering, along with her little brother who she failed to protect. Her sister was taken to be a Grey Warden. Now her mother ripped from her in the most abhorrent manner she ever could have imagined. It was easy to understand why people feared magic when it could do such things, but Hawke was steadfast in her belief that the mages should be free. 

Hawke had been pushing herself away from her companions since that day too. She feared not being able to protect them and losing them. So she had been spending more time with the stoic giants. They were a bandage for her problems. She knew that their presence was constant and unchanging. They didn’t rely on her for anything so she couldn’t make herself feel responsible for them. 

There was a part of Hawke’s life that was dimmer in the wake of all the losing she did. Her love life. She had a thing for Anders at a time, but he couldn’t make time for her romantically with Justice in his head. Fenris seemed interested, but Hawke couldn’t get past his disdain for mages. Isabella would probably give her something Anders couldn’t cure. Merrill was a damn fool, cute, but likely to accidentally sell Hawke to a demon or something. Hawke didn’t like the idea that she could wake up next to an abomination if she shared her bed with the elf. Hawke’s love life had been dwindled down to the occasional romping with a stranger, usually at the Hanged Man. What she did not know, was that the Qunari were keeping tabs on that too. 

“Serah Hawke,” the Arishok announced her presence as she approached him on his makeshift throne. 

“Arishok,” she bowed her head in respect. Fenris had taught her basic Qunari manners. 

“What brings you out of the filth today?” He questioned. 

“I brought a gift for you. I was hoping to share it with you this evening,” she held out a bag full of cookies. The Qunari had quite the sweet tooth, she had learned. 

The Arishok waited for one of his men to inspect the contents of the bag before nodding for her to follow him. His tent was the biggest in the compound. It was adorned with pelts and a mattress easily twice the size of the one she owned in her mansion. There was a small table with pillows for seats in the center. He motioned his hand to direct Hawke to sit first. She did, then watched as he folded his legs to sit on her level. Some elven converts brought forth their meal and drink. The spiced wine that the Qunari drank was enough to take your breath away, but Hawke had tried it enough times that she could manage to finish and hold down a cup or two of it at a time. 

“Shanedan Hawke,” he stated with a slight nod of his head, “Mashev.”

“Thank you Arishok. I find myself...alone. I did not wish to be so, so I came here,” Hawke fiddled with her thumbs, feeling embarrassed. She was thankful for the few words of Qunlat Fenris taught her. 

“Maraas,” he grunted, “I understand. It is a valid feeling in this...place of filth. If you were to submit to the Qun, you would find that you will never be alone.” 

“Still trying to get me to convert huh?” Hawke chuckled softly, “It’s tempting, but I don’t think I would fit. Could you honestly imagine me taking orders?” 

The Arishok gave her something like a chortle, “You would find a place among us.” 

Hawke took a bite of the stewed meat in front of her, eyeing the chopped potatoes. She admired the Arishok’s form as they ate in relative silence. They were content in each other’s presence. Hawke’s mind, starved of the touches of another, wandered to naughty places. 

“You really are Maraas, alone,” he stated with his nose flared, “You need a Tamassran.” 

“I...need a what?” Hawke tilted her head slightly at that. 

“I can smell your desire. Has it been long since you last bedded another?” The Arishok asked boldly. 

Hawke choked on her wine for something other than the spice for once, “How long since I-what?” 

“Do you understand my question?” He crossed his broad arms across his chest, the Vitaar glimmering in the candlelight. 

“I do. I was just taken by surprise. That’s not something that is so easily talked about for those of us outside of the Qun,” Hawke rubbed the back of her head, “It’s been a long time.” 

The Arishok gave an understanding grunt, “I am no Tamassran, but I can provide some relief.” 

Hawke’s face grew bright red, “You want to-with me?”

“It is simple in under the Qun. It is a basic need that demands to be sated. If you are unwilling with me, then I can offer a Sten or Arvaarad,” he stated plainly. 

“No I’m interested with you. I just, am surprised is all,” Hawke shifted awkwardly on her pillow as she could feel her small clothes begin to flood. 

“I will be careful not to injure you more than necessary,” he said as he stood and waved her toward his mattress. 

Hawke felt her head spinning as she made her way onto his mattress. With surprising delicate movements, the Arishok untied her tunic and leather pants. Now that she was naked, she felt how compromised she was. The Arishok towered over her and had placed her daggers out of reach. She swallowed hard under his gaze, eyeing the massive bulge growing in his pants. 

“You appear fearful of my defransdim,” the Arishok stated, “I imagine it is the biggest you’ve had.” 

“You could say that again,” Hawke awkwardly laughed to try and brush off the feeling. 

“Kost, peace. Say that word if you wish me to stop and I shall,” he replied, easing her mind. 

“Got it,” Hawke responded, willing her body to relax. 

It was rather easy given her alcohol consumption. The Arishok nipped at her exposed neck, letting his teeth drag across her soft flesh. Hawke moaned at the sensation as his tongue found her skin. Her hands hesitantly made their way up to his broad arms and onto his back. The sheer amount of muscles on the man was downright criminal. Knowing this giant could so easily crush her just made her wetter under him. Having a safe word meant that the Arishok gave her the power to control him, even if it is just for sex. The idea made her lightheaded, or maybe that was the way the Arishok’s finger was brushing against her pearl. 

“Oh,” Hawke gasped as he ran a finger down her slick slit. 

“You are almost ready,” he commented as the thick digit pressed into her. 

His finger was the size of some of the men she had been with. It stretched her deliciously as he added a second. Hawke’s body arched up, pressing against his. The Arishok captured an offered breast into his mouth, careful that his teeth did not rip into the flesh. 

“Fuck,” Hawke swore as her body tingled with excitement. 

“Na'thek,” he replied, moving to spread her legs impossibly wide. 

Hawke couldn’t stifle her moans as he buried his face into her folds. His tongue was large and slightly rough, causing friction that her body craved so much. He pressed another finger into her as he ate at her moisture, stretching her further than she had been before. He was making sure she could handle his manhood properly. 

Climax built in Hawke as she squirmed and rolled herself to help give the Arishok the best angles with which to pleasure her. His groan caused vibrations that sent her over the edge, cumming hard against him. Hawke’s legs tightened around his head, his horns hard against her muscles. The Arishok kept his fingers pumping in her, riding out her orgasm. 

“You are ready now,” he stated, standing up to free himself from his clothes. 

“Astaarit,” Hawke stated, earning a surprised look from the Arishok that she used his native tongue. 

He lined himself up with her sex, his tip running the length of her entrance to add much need lubrication. Hawke kept her eyes on the beast of a man in front of her, committing each detail to memory. The Arishok met her gaze, pressing himself forward. 

Hawke felt like she was being ripped in half, the pain overtaking pleasure for the first few moments. The Arishok massaged at her breast and hips to help her relax. Once he was hilted, the pain washed over. Hawke dared to roll her hips to try and take control, but the Arishok was having none of it. He placed a hand against her stomach to keep her still as he tested a few thrusts. 

Confident her body could handle him now, the Arishok removed his hand and set a steady pace. Hawke rolled her hips to meet each of his thrusts, the slapping of flesh on flesh filling the tent. From outside, everyone in the compound could hear what Hawke and the Arishok were up to. Not that they particularly cared. Hawke made no motions to stop herself from being heard, her wanton moans and whimpers driving the Arishok to move harder. 

He leaned over her smaller frame, bracing himself on one hand by her head while the other kept an iron grip on her hip. Hawke’s body clenched around him as he used his strength to pound into her. Her nails drug along his back, raising the skin as her orgasm took hold. The Arishok let out his own release, filling her completely with his seed. 

“Thank you,” Hawke panting, sweat beaded up on her body. 

“Ataash,” he replied. Hawke tried to stand, falling forward on unsteady legs. The Arishok caught her, shaking his head to make her sit back on his bed. “You must rest.” 

“I won’t argue with you,” Hawke offered a smile, “I would like my clothes back though. It’s rather cold out. 

The Arishok gave her a passive look and handed her the clothing. Without a word he stepped out of the tent and barked a command to an elf. The same elf returned to their tent a few minutes later with a cup of tea in his hands. 

“Drink this to prevent a pregnancy,” the Arishok stated. 

“Is that a command, or an offer?” Hawke questioned, looking the Arishok in the eye. 

“A courtesy,” he replied. 

Hawke took a hesitant sip. She didn’t hate the idea of being a mother, but she wasn’t ready for it now. Especially not a qunari half-breed in Hightown. Her mother would be sure to rise from the grave and beat her senseless. The idea made her chuckle as she drank the tea. 

“You may stay here the night,” the Arishok stated. 

“Thank you,” she replied, having finished the tea. 

“You need not be alone Serah Hawke,” he looked over her thoughtfully. 

“In the end, I’ll always be alone,” Hawke replied, setting the empty cup on a small table beside her. 

The Arishok left her alone for the night. Hawke wasn’t sure where he slept, but it didn’t matter. By sunrise she was able to stand on her own. The same elf from the night before brought her a different tea, one meant to help dull the pain in her groin. Hawke glanced over on her way out of the compound to the Arishok, who was addressing some men from his throne. He gave her a simple head nod and watched her leave.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed xxx  
> Basalit-an: one worthy of respect  
> Maraas: alone/nothing  
> Vitaar: poison body paint  
> Defransdim: male genitals  
> Mashev: command to eat  
> Na'thek: as you wish  
> Astaarit: it rises  
> Ataash: glory


End file.
